


Someone Who Cares

by lorij (Murphtastic)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-27
Updated: 2012-07-27
Packaged: 2017-11-10 20:57:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/470613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murphtastic/pseuds/lorij
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Argh, uh... fluff? yeah, this qualifies as fluff. though, back in the day we called it "schmoop". I think I like fluff better. Spike. Xander. I love you's and sex! Really not much else to it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Someone Who Cares

Friday nights in Sunnydale suck. Literally. Make that the *vampires* in Sunnydale suck. Throw in the occasional demon that wants to take over the world or just generally cause mayhem and you've got yourself a recipe for fun. Okay, fun is so not the right word but it's not easy to think when you're getting thrown into walls. 

Which happened about five seconds ago. The 'getting thrown into the wall' thing, that is. Great. Now I'm explaining things to myself. Must have gotten my brains rattled a bit. If I move my head just so, I can see Buffy, in all her blonde glory, kicking the crap out of the demon. I should probably help her or...not. Isn't like she *needs*my help. She's the Slayer and I should be just pleased as punch that she's letting me 'tag' along. Her words, not mine.

Did that sound bitter? 

Buffy means well, I suppose. She's apparently forgotten that sometimes a guy just needs to get the crap kicked out of him to retain his manhood. And since I'm feeling the need to prove that, I wade back into the fight, this time grabbing a metal bar that abandoned warehouses seem to have in abundance. One hard poke with the bar and I've got the demon's attention again. And it looks pissed. Not good. Typical, but not good. I've forgotten the demon's name, something with fifteen vowels that's utterly unpronounceable to anyone but Giles. I cast a few aspersions on the demon's ancestry just for the hell of it. Don't think he understands my words, but the obscene gesture seems to get through loud and clear.

Oh joy, something new. Instead of picking me up and throwing me against the wall, Mr. Demon backhands me into the wall. Hello, Wall. It's Xander Harris. Remember me? We spoke just a few minutes ago. 

Things go a little fuzzy after that. Half my face feels numb and my head is killing me, along with my back and shoulder. Maybe now's a good time to leave the heavy lifting to the Buffster. I may be foolish but I'm not stupid. I have a healthy sense of self-preservation, thank you very much.

"Xander?" Must have spaced out for a second, 'cause next thing I hear is Buffy's voice. Sorry, Buff, love to answer you but I seem to be having a problem thinking at the moment.

"Xander!" Willow, this time, sounding concerned.

I manage to get one eye open, the other feels all puffy, and wind up closing it again right away. That earns me a not-so-light slap on the cheek from Buffy. "Ow!" Cool. Progress. I can still feel pain so I'm not dead.

"Wake up, Xander." Buffy again. I'm torn between telling her to shut up or groaning in pain. The groan wins but I open both my eyes this time.

Should probably say something witty and extremely brave here. "Um, hi?" 

Maybe not. 

Willow smiles at me. She's got that look about her again. The same look she gets every time she uses her magic. It comes from inside and make her glow. "Hi, yourself. You all right?"

"That's debatable. Do I still have all my limbs and are they all attached?" 

"Everything's there. Can you stand?"

"Of course." And I can. With Buffy on one side and Willow on the other. Once I get my balance all I want to do is go home and sleep. Who cares if Spike is still staying with me? He'll probably be out and about or home being pissed because I didn't invite him along. Spike pouting is not a pretty sight. Scratch that. It *is* a pretty sight. Spike pouting, Spike talking, Spike sitting in a chair...all very pretty sights. Hell, he's gorgeous. Yeah, I've looked and I've liked. That's all, though. No touching. Still debating on whether or not it's a wise idea to try and seduce a vampire.

Buffy catches me as I stumble. Note to self; don't think about Spike when trying to walk. "We should get you checked out at the hospital."

"No!" That's the last thing I need right now. Hospitals have too many questions when they see I've visited them numerous times in the past. Eyebrows raise and I get those 'looks'. I hate those looks. "I'm fine. Just need to sleep."

Willow tries this time. "Xander, you could have a concussion."

I smile in what I hope is a reassuring way. "Nah, Will. Got a hard head. No concussion here." Some might say I'm going to hell for lying, but what do they know? It's just easier to pretend I'm not hurt, I've got lots of practice at that. Physical pain, emotional pain... I can tuck 'em all out of sight in a heartbeat.

"If you're sure." But they're already helping me to the door and into my car. Nice to know that I have friends that are so easily persuaded. I try not to get too bummed out when stuff like this happens. Buffy and Willow both have lives outside of slaying. They have college and boyfriends. Girlfriend in Willow's case. They can't quite grasp the fact that this is all I really have left. It's either patrol at night or work another shitty job just to pass the time. Or I could pass the time staring at Spike. Either way I don't have much of a life.

Funny how it gets easier and easier to admit that. 

I vaguely listen as Buffy and Willow tell me how they took the demon down and how it was so cool that Will could cast this new spell or how Buffy could bench press 250. There was a time when we used to have conversations about important stuff. I don't know why that's changed or why I seem to be on the outside looking in.

****

Home looks the same as it always does. Not my favorite place in the world, but it'll do. Buffy parks the car and we all get out, me more slowly than normal. I get the usual 'See you later, Xan' and then they're gone. Walking down the street, talking and laughing, forgetting all about me. It shouldn't hurt anymore, but it does. Somehow that saying 'whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger' just doesn't apply here. 

I watch them walk away until the night swallows them up. Two girls who used to be my friends, girls that I was in love with at one time or another. Girls that seem to have forgotten that I'm alive. I stand there a while longer, doing my best not to... Not to what? Not to cry? Go insane? Laugh? I wish I knew.

There's light coming from one of the basement windows, which means that Spike is home. I'm actually kinda glad that he's there. Not the most friendly face, not friendly at all, but familiar. Spike's managed to become someone I want to see on a regular basis. Wouldn't mind groping him either, but I'm saving that for another night when I feel up to it. Groping is an art form; it takes concentration that I don't have at the moment.

No parents to worry about. They're out of town doing God knows what. Not that I'm particularly concerned about them. I'd be happy if I never had to see them again.

Going down the steps hurts. Every time I put my foot down my head feels like it's going to explode. Can't hold onto the railing because of my shoulder. Something's not quite right with it. Feels like it's half dislocated. But who ever said my life was easy? A shower before bed might be just what I need. Loosen up my muscles so I can relax enough to sleep. Plus I smell like dead demon and that's just nasty.

I was right. Spike's still here. He must have decided that staying in and making rude comments at the TV was more fun than going out on patrol. The whole scene looks rather cozy. Spike sitting in the chair, his skin a weird blue color from the TV, sipping a mug of blood. 

He ignores me, as usual. I ignore him as well, until I realize that he's drinking blood out of my favorite mug. The mug my Grandma gave me is being defiled with pig's blood. "Spike, is that my Bozo the Clown mug?" I keep my voice low and calm. My head hurts too much to yell.

Spike pastes a surprised expression on his face and pretends to study the mug. "Is it? Sorry about that, mate. Just grabbed the first one I saw." He takes another sip and adds, "What the hell happened to you?"

I sigh, wanting nothing more than to punch him in the face but it might be the vampire equivalent of foreplay and I'd rather not start something I can't finish. "Never mind. Use any mug you want. I'm taking a shower."

"Seriously, though, you look bloody awful. Can you even see?"

There's a hint of *something* in Spike's voice. I can't tell if it's concern or ridicule. Better to err on the side of caution. "Sort of. I look that bad?" Oh yeah, I'm a glutton for punishment, encouraging the mean vampire to have a laugh at my expense.

Spike stands up and stretches, making my dick twitch. Too damn sexy and he knows it. He moves closer and studies me. "Yeah, pet. You look like shit. How many fingers?"

The sudden switch in conversation makes my head spin a little faster. "Huh?"

"Fingers, pet. How many am I holding up?"

Like I can tell. Dark basements and blurry vision do not make seeing easy. "Three?" From the look on Spike's face I'm way off. "Er...how about two? Four?"

"You should be in hospital." And this time I *can* hear the concern in his voice. "Didn't those stupid twats think you should go?" Anger now, at Buffy and Willow. Strange how I don't feel like defending them.

"Told them I was fine." Shower or sleep. Sleep or shower. Sleep it is. "We done? 'Cause I'm dead tired. And no, I'm not apologizing for that." I head in the general direction of my bed hoping that I'll run into it. "Night, Spike." 

Halfway to my bed I trip over something. My mind yells at me to try and break my fall but my body doesn't agree. I watch the concrete floor come rushing towards me in a detached kind of way. After getting up close and personal with walls tonight why not introduce myself to the floor? It's horizontal which means I could sleep on it. Or be unconscious on it. Ill take either option right now.

Strangely enough I don't hit the floor. That's odd. Unless I've suddenly developed the ability to levitate in mid-air, I should be kissing the concrete and becoming it's bestest buddy. Wait, I've got it now. Spike must have caught me before I hit. Can feel his arms tighten around me and he's saying something that I can't quite understand. How many senses is that now? Can't see and now I can't hear. Perfect.

On the plus side Spike's holding me against his chest. Feels good in a way that I've never felt before. "Spike..." is all I manage to get out before my eyes slide shut.

"Shh, love."

Spike picks me up and takes me up the stairs. I feel safe in his arms and snuggle a little closer. Spike responds by pulling me tighter against his chest. Definitely going to have to suggest that we try this again when I'm feeling better. The last thing I hear is the car door open and I feel Spike's fingers brush my cheek. Then everything goes dark and quiet for a long time.

****

Apparently you can feel someone staring at you even when you're unconscious. Feel it enough to wake up and look around. I had been floating around in my mind, happy to be away from real life for a while when I felt like someone was staring at me. So I left the comfort of unconsciousness and woke up to find myself in the hospital with a vampire sitting next to my bed. Spike had pulled the chair as close as possible and was gazing at me intently. Wasn't even blinking. Talk about weird.

If I could speak, I would squeak in an unmanly fashion. As it is, my throat is holding my voice hostage, demanding water or at the very least, something wet. Spike sees my distress and decides to play knight in shining armor. He pours me a glass of water and surprises the hell out of me when he helps me sit up enough to drink it. 

I, ever the opportunist, take the chance to lean into Spike. He smells like old smoke and leather with just a touch of aftershave. *My* aftershave, of course. I expected nothing less. Still, it's nice to have someone be this close to me on purpose. No, I'm not starved for attention at all. 

I rest my shoulder against Spike's chest and he lets me, even slips an arm around me. Wow. Possible progress here. After I drink enough water to legally be named Lake Xander, I break the silence in the room. "So, uh, why'd you bring me here?" Stupid question, but I'm ace at asking them. 

Spike sounds a little miffed. "It's a bloody hospital. Where else would I bring you?"

"I told you I was fine." Am I really *whining* because Spike brought me to the hospital? 

He snorted. "You're hardly fine, mate. Managed to get yourself a concussion and throw your shoulder out." Spike adjusts my bed until I can rest my back against it. He has to move his arm and he looks a bit reluctant to do so. Or maybe not, hard to tell with him. He has exactly three facial expressions. Bored, Interested, and Vampire. I'm working on getting him to add Excited and  
Impressed. It's a dirty job but I don't have anything better to do.

"That would explain the sling, wouldn't it?" Apparently whatever drugs they gave me have impaired my ability to realize the obvious.

"That it would." Spike looks like he wants to say something else but the door opens and a doctor walks in. 

"Mr. Harris?" The guy looks normal enough; probably he isn't a demon in disguise. Then again, this *is* Sunnydale.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Spike straighten in his chair and give the doctor a suspicious look. "Yeah, that's me."

The guy smiles. No odd looking or extremely sharp teeth in sight. So far, so good. "I'm Dr. Martin." Spike mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'stupid git' and Dr. Martin frowns down at him. "And you are?"

This ought to be interesting. 

Spike looks thoughtful for a second and then says "Me? I'm Mr. Harris'...good friend." 

Damn. Thought for sure he was gonna go for lover. Kinda wish he would. Give me an excuse to do something wicked to his body. Something that would make Spike moan and beg for more. Now there's an interesting thought. One that makes my dick try and come to life under the scratchy hospital blankets. Wonder if I ask nicely it'll stop sending dirty pictures to my brain?

Good thing Dr. Martin decides to tell me why every part of my body aches. Just like Spike said, concussion, strained shoulder, lots of bruising on my back and side. Bruised ribs, as well, that are just making themselves known in a series of sharp little pains every time I move in the slightest. "So when can I get out of here?" No way I'm staying overnight. Hospitals are not fun places to be.

"I would recommend you stay overnight, Mr. Harris. You've suffered a head injury and need to be woken every hour." 

"No. I'm not staying."

"Mr. Harris--"

"I said, no!" Okay, chill out, Xander. No need to frighten the nice doctor. 

"Look, my...friend here is also my roommate. Can't he just wake me up?"

Dr. Martin gives Spike a disapproving look that could compete with Giles. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Oi, what do you mean it's not a good idea?" Spike stands up and puts his hands on his hips. "I'll have you know that I'm perfectly capable of waking Xander up every hour." He glares at the doctor and I could swear that his eyes flash yellow for just one second. I think Dr. Martin saw it too, because he's looking a little green around the gills.

It's a bad thing that I get turned on when Spike does that *thing* with his voice? The thing where he kind of...growls at someone turns my crank. I'd better step in before he completely vamps out and gets hauled away. "Of course you are, Sp--Will." Probably not a good idea to say 'Spike' and freak the doctor out even more. "So it's settled then? I can go home?"

Dr. Martin tears his eyes away from Spike's face and stares at me. He looks like he wants to ask if I'm insane for wanting to go home with a guy that just growled at him. I stare back and try to keep my face expressionless. I've had experience with this sort of thing so it's not hard to make the doctor look away first.

"Uh. Yes. Yes, you can go home. I'll send the nurse in with your discharge papers and instructions." Dr. Martin backs out of my room, never taking his eyes off of Spike. Hmm. I ever get stuck going to the hospital again, I might bring Spike along just to scare the doctor into letting me out early.

Spike drops back into his chair with a disgusted snort. "Naffing idiot."

"Spike?" He looks up at me and our eyes lock. "Thanks," I say sincerely, wanting him to see that I mean it.

"Yeah. Whatever. If that bitch of Slayer did her job you wouldn't be here." 

I could be wrong, but it sounds like Spike is mad at Buffy on my behalf. Can't remember the last time something like *that* happened. Maybe never. Still, I feel the need to make a half-assed defense. "I told her and Willow I was fine."

"They bloody well should have known that you weren't." Spike leans forward in his chair and points a finger at me. Such a nice finger, too. Long and thin...and I can't believe I'm lusting after his *finger*. "Even *I* could tell you weren't fine and that's saying something."

He has a point. "You do have a point, but it doesn't really matter." I'm lying through my teeth. It *does* matter when they ignore me. It does matter when they send me off on a munchie run just because they can. It matters and it hurts.

I must have looked depressed or something because the next thing I know, Spike's sitting on the bed next to me. "It matters to me, love," he says in the most serious tone I've ever heard him use. And then he's kissing me. Spike's kissing me. Spike the vampire who used to want to kill me. Spike the guy who used to be known as William the Bloody back in the days when you had to *earn* a name like that.

Cool lips lightly pressing against my warm ones. Then pressing harder and parting, the tip of his tongue flicking at my bottom lip. I open my mouth automatically and Spike's tongue meets mine and we really go at it after that. 

I don't care what anyone says about him, Spike can kiss like nobody's business. 

I'dve been content to kiss him all night, but the sound of someone clearing their throat tears us apart. It's a nurse, pushing an empty wheelchair and staring at us disapprovingly. I suppose we make an odd picture. I feel all out of sorts and Spike looks completely unruffled. That's just not fair.

The nurse gives us one last look and then hands me some papers. "Here are your instructions, Mr. Harris. Please be sure that you follow them. It's very important."

"Sure." 

She starts rattling off things I shouldn't do and I don't hear a word she says. All I can do is thing of the way Spike's mouth felt against mine and how I want more. Lots more. As much as I can get. Question is, will he give it to me? 

The whispered "Later, pet." is a definite yes in my book. 

****

Why is it that hospital gowns seem to go out of their way to show one's ass? Is this some kind of conspiracy against modesty? Don't even get me started on the paper underwear. Paper underwear. Who the hell invented these and where are they so I can kill them?

Spike's back in the chair again, smirking at my discomfort. The nurse gave me my clothes back; what's left of them anyway. My shirt is trashed, in pieces because they had to cut it off me. Thank god they took my jeans and boxers of the normal way. Score one for Xander. Going commando wasn't on my list of things to do tonight. *Is* it still tonight I wonder? "Spike, what time is it?"

"Nighttime." Spike waggles his eyebrows at me and tips his head to one side.

I spend some quality time checking out the ceiling. He couldn't give a straight answer to save his life. "Spike..." Good, that sounded not-whiny and stern. It's never a good idea to let a vampire, even one as hot as Spike, get the upper hand. 

"Just kidding, ducks. It's half-past midnight."

"Can't you just say 12:30 like everyone else?"

Spike grins wolfishly. "Nah. That'd ruin my image, such as it is these days."

It must suck to be a vampire that none of the other vampires want to play with. Guess you could say that Spike has been ostracized from the demon community. Gives us something in common, though. It's not like any of the Scooby gang is rushing to hang out with me on a regular basis. I know friends grow apart but it still sucks. This never would have happened with Jesse and me. He would've always been my friend.

"Xander."

Whoops. Gotta remember that there's someone else in the room and I can't just go all introspective. "Yeah?"

"Planning on wearing paper trolleys all night?"

I swear Spike says stuff like that on purpose. "And for those of us that didn't grow up killing and maiming in jolly old England, trolleys would be?" Then again, there's only one thing they can be. "Wait, don't tell me. Trolleys equal underwear."

Spike snaps his fingers. "Got it in one. So?"

"So what?" This conversation is taking a confusing turn.

"So are you going to wear paper *underwear* all night?" There's just a hint of exasperation in Spike's voice. Not everyone would be able to hear it. I've spent a large majority of my life making people exasperated, so I know exasperation when I hear it.

"Eww, no. They chafe in the most inopportune places." It's true, they do chafe. Although, why I'm telling Spike this, I have no idea. "Speaking of that, I'd like to get dressed now so if you don't mind..." 

"Don't mind at all, pet." Spike settles back into the chair and crosses his arms in front of him. The hospital lighting makes his bleached hair look orange. I wonder how often he has to hit the peroxide bottle. Once a year? Every five years? 

So now I have a decision to make. Do I freak out and make a huge stink about getting dressed in front of Spike or should I just do it? From the look of it, he's not going to move even if I ask him to. And hell, we just *kissed* and what's a little teasing among soon-to-be lovers? I shrug my shoulders and decide to just go for it. I grab my boxers and it hits me that I only have one usable arm. The other one's in a sling thanks to the non-friendly, non-neighborhood demon. 

The one-handed boxer pull is a challenge, one that I'm not sure I'm up to, but I'll give it a try. Step one: Legs over the bed. Step two: Lean over and try to get at least one leg in. Step three: Get light-headed and tip over, hoping the vampire next to you has those fabled vampire reflexes. Step four: Get caught by said vampire and held close to him. 

Okay, that didn't work. I don't have a back up plan either. Nor do I have any ideas on how to get my jeans on should the fireworks show stop exploding in front of my eyes. You'd think it was the Fourth of July or something. I have a nice cool place to rest my aching head, though. Spike's chest makes for a wonderful icepack. In fact, it's so comfortable that I might just stay here awhile. My own personal cooler.

"Xander, love. Don't go back to sleep." I can feel Spike voice rumble in his chest and vibrate against my forehead. Feels *very* nice.

"Go away." 

"Xander." This time I get the rumble plus a rub to my shoulder. This just gets better and better.

"'M comfortable. Lemme alone."

"Wake up, Xander." And ouch! The shoulder rub turns into a pinch.

"Not nice to pinch a guy when he's down, Spike." Mumbling into Spike's shirt is much more fun than speaking directly to him.

"If you go back to sleep, you'll be stuck here for the night. That what you want, pet?" 

Tonight must be Spike's night for pointing out the flaws in my logic. "No."

"All right then."

"All right then what?" 

Spike sighs. I know he doesn't breathe but apparently sighing is an option. "Since you don't want to stay here you'd best get dressed, hadn't you?"

"You do remember my pathetic attempt at dressing five seconds ago?" I suppose I should be embarrassed, but I got a cuddle out of Spike. Funny thing, wanting a cuddle from a vampire. They don't seem at all cuddly until you get to know them. 

Okay, so my experience is extremely limited but a guy can dream, can't he?

I expect a smart-ass remark or a lecherous look but I get neither. What I get is a soft kiss on my forehead and gentle hands helping me get dressed. The gentleness is completely unexpected. Don't know what I was expecting, but that wasn't it. Maybe I was expecting Spike to try and cop a feel as he helped me get my boxers on and then my jeans. He even put my socks and shoes on for me. Tied the shoelaces in a double knot. Just the way I like 'em. 

This familiarity Spike has with my habits is...I would have said disturbing and creepy before, but now it's sweet. He's obviously spent some time watching me. Not like he had anything else to do, tied to my chair. I know he's killed in the past and if he ever gets rid of the chip, I'm sure he'll kill again. But I don't think I'll be on his list. Spike isn't Santa Claus by a long shot, but I bet he has a mental list of people that will be the first to die once the chip is gone. Probably has them ranked by who he hates most.

Now I'm dressed except for my shirt, which isn't wearable. I consider the hospital gown for a few seconds and decide to leave it on. Better than nothing. 

The nurse, who must surely have won some type of award for being a bitch, comes back in. I sign the discharge papers and she hands over more last minute instructions and some prescriptions I'm supposed to get filled. Then it's into a wheelchair that smells like someone died in it and down the elevator. Spike stands silently beside me the whole ride down, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat.

I would have been fine with walking to the car but a short "Stay here." from Spike has me waiting in the hospital entryway while he gets the car. I stand there and shiver, wishing I had the sweater my Grandma made for me. It's blue with yellow stripes. Hideous, but the warmest thing I own. That sweater has come in handy some nights in the basement. It gets a little chilly down there sometimes.

Suddenly something lands on my shoulders. I jerk around, thinking that some*thing* grabbed me, only to come face to face with Spike. He's doing his best to keep his coat from falling off my shoulders. I grab it with my good hand and stick my arm through the sleeve. Spike drapes the other side over my injured shoulder. Not a bad fit really.

"Thanks," I say when my teeth stop chattering.

Spike shrugs. "No problem. Shall we?" He nods to the car parked a few feet away, engine running. 

"Yeah. Let's go home." Spike ushers me out the door with a hand on the small of my back. It takes me by surprise. I've always been the one doing something like that with Cordelia sometimes even Anya. Though she had Issues with those kind of gestures. Am I surprised that Spike is doing it to me? Kinda, but I feel safe knowing that he's right there. Right beside me, keeping watch. 

I promise myself that we'll talk on the way home. Just need to stay awake, which is going to be a problem, because I can feel myself drifting. Spike sits me in the passenger side and even buckles me in. I'm asleep before I hear the door shut.

****

If getting thrown into walls and getting a concussion results in me being carried by Spike twice in one night I'll gladly take up the habit. Yeah, I know I'm a guy, but I don't subscribe to the idea that a guy has to be big and strong all the time. There have been plenty of times when I did my share of running away. I'm not going to stand there and get pounded on *all* the time. Once a week or so is plenty.

Gotta say I'm really liking the fact that vampires are a lot stronger that us mortal folk. Spike lifted me out of the car like I didn't weigh a thing and is currently carrying me through my house and down the steps to the basement. I'm stuck in this kind of twilight zone where I can feel what's going on around me, but I couldn't open my eyes or move anything if I tried. My body is probably getting back at me for all those nights that I haven't slept. I'm a restless sleeper, always have been. The smallest sound can wake me up. In my family, it pays to be a light sleeper. Easier to avoid things that are better left unsaid.

I know that my head is resting against Spike's chest. I know that I keep expecting to hear a heartbeat and when I never do, I don't care. I know it feels nice to be held again. I know that I'm glad it's Spike doing the holding. I wish I could say that I'm not surprised at seeing this gentler side of him, but I am. Only fair, I suppose. Isn't like we've been the closet of friends. Mortal enemies, so to speak. Except he's immortal and I'm just Xander Harris. I don't get a special title. I'm not a slayer, not a witch or a watcher. Not even a werewolf. I'm just me and sometimes it sucks.

Doesn't suck at the moment though. Right now I've got this whole 'safe and protected' vibe going on. Who would have thought that Spike would be the one to make me feel this way? Being sidekick to a vampire slayer isn't among America's most secure positions and my life experiences prior to Buffy weren't exactly the best, so I've pretty much accepted that not feeling safe is par for the course.

Spike's a vampire. One of the Not Nice variety. Since the Initiative stuck a chip in his head he hasn't been the same. Okay, that's one of the more stupid observations I've ever made. Of course he's not the same. He can't be or do what he really wants to. Granted what he really wants to do is kill people and just generally cause mayhem, but still. I wouldn't want something stuck in my head that hurt me every time I ate chocolate. That would be cruel and wrong and I really do wish it hadn't happened to Spike.

It goes without saying that I don't share these opinions with the Scooby gang.

Huh. Seems as though I'm in my bed now. In my bed and so's Spike. On the bed really. Sitting on the edge attempting to get the ridiculous hospital gown off me. He's got one arm off, the one without the sling, and decides to slice the rest off. Handy to have a knife in your boot. Maybe I should think about getting one. My shoes and socks are next, followed quickly by my jeans. And then I'm lying down and wishing Spike was next to me. I get my wish seconds later when he slides under the covers and pulls me towards him. Carefully, as if he's afraid I'll break. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll break from this kindness.

Spike turns me until I'm lying on my non-owie side and snuggles up behind me. His chest to my back, his dick to my... Gotta stop thinking like this when I can't do a damn thing about it. The light kisses on my neck and shoulder do nothing towards taming my libido. 

I hear myself moan and it sounds so needy, even to me. I want him to do more than just kiss me. I want everything with him, up to and including love. Another needy, greedy moan and Spike is whispering in my ear, "Sleep, love. We've got all the time in the world."

And I do.

****

In the hours that follow Spike wakes me up as ordered and asks me not-so-standard questions. 'Am I too sexy for my shirt?' 'How old am I in dog years?' and my personal favorite: 'How about another kiss?'

Spike's very persuasive.

Eight hours of interrupted sleep later, having been kissed and snuggled numerous times, I awake a new man.

Well, not really. More like opened my good eye and checked the clock. Late for work. Again. So long soon-to-be-forgotten fast food place. Surprisingly enough, jobs like you to actually show up. Which I have a tendency not to do. Maybe I do it on purpose. But since I've got time on my hands, I take stock of the situation.

I hurt. A lot. As in everything-aches-every-time-I-move-an-inch kind of hurt. I decide not to move for...oh, say...*ever*. There's a couple of pill bottles sitting next to my clock. Must be my painkillers and whatever else the doc prescribed. I'm hurting but there's no way I'm making a grab for them. Reaching for things with bruised ribs is never a good idea.

Not like I *could* reach for the pills if I wanted to. Spike's got his arm wrapped around my waist and I don't think he's going to be letting go anytime soon. Not that I want him to let go. Despite my major ouchies, I'm pretty comfortable.

Comfortable in bed with a vampire. And not just any vampire, either. I'm snuggling with Spike. Spike, who has tried to kill me and my friends more than once. 

Snuggling with a sworn enemy and enjoying it. Spike's good at it too. All that cool skin pressed against me, arm holding me close. Close enough to be slightly freaked by the fact that he's not breathing. Very disconcerting, that. Wonder if he used to breathe right after he was turned? Your body doesn't just forget something like that overnight. Maybe I'll ask him about that sometime.

So.

Me. Spike. Bed. Snuggling.

And of course I have to pee. Never fails. My bladder takes offense so very easily. All I have to do is slide out of bed, pee, and then slide back in. 

Simple as that. Piece of cake. Easy as pie.

I need to stop thinking in terms of food.

I can do this. 

Just sit up; yeah, like that. Then groan loudly. 

No! Groaning will wake up...

"'S'matter, pet?"

Groaning will wake cute, sleeping vampires. "Um...hi?" God, even half-asleep he's gorgeous.

"Hi, yourself." Spike smiles and sits up. "Sleep well?"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, yeah. Considering *someone* kept waking me up and asking stupid questions. And just how old are you in dog years?" 

"No fucking clue." 

"Ah." Now what?

We sit in silence for a bit. I take the opportunity to inch closer to the edge of the bed, hoping that Spike won't ask where I'm going. It isn't till I'm halfway to my goal that I realize he's moving with me. Every time I scoot a few inches he does too. I don't know if I should be grateful or indignant. I decide on neither, the urge to pee overwhelming everything else.

"Going somewhere, mate?" Spike's trying hard to sound casual, but I can hear the undercurrent of worry in it.

"Gotta pee." I'll be embarrassed later. Right now I have a feeling if I don't get there soon, Mom's going to have to break out the rubber sheets. "Help?"

"You want me to help you take a leak?" Now he sounds confused.

People are way too literal these days. "No, doofus. Help me get out of bed and stand up. I can take care of the rest on my own."

You can practically see the light bulb go on. "Oh. Thought you meant... Never mind."

"I know what you thought. And while I appreciate it, I'd rather you hold my dick for something other than peeing. Right now, I just want you to help me stand up." I cannot believe I just said that.

Spike arches his eyebrow. "So you're saying that you want me to touch you?"  
"Spike..." 

He shakes his head quickly and smirks at me. "Right. You. Off the bed. Bathroom.  
Pee."

"Well, since you put it that way..."

Standing up proves to be another fun experience. Pain is secondary to nature calling. Spike keeps an arm around my waist and we shuffle to the bathroom. I let my good arm slide around his waist and don't feel a single twinge of guilt. 

"Xander?"

Exasperated sigh. "Yes, Spike?

"About this 'me touching you' thing..."

I sneak a look at Spike and decide that he's definitely lickable. "Yeah?"

Long silence while the bathroom door gets closer and closer. 

"Spike?"

Abrupt question. "Did you mean it?" 

I blink at him in my best 'huh?' way. "Did I mean what?"

Now Spike's the exasperated one. "Mean that you wanted me to touch you?"

Oh that. "Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

"Hell, yes, I meant it."

"Damn right you did." Definitely a relieved/happy thing going on there.

"Good. So can I pee now?" 

Spike looks guilty. "Shit. Sorry, pet."

Too cute. "S'ok." I lean forward, kiss him, and then duck into the bathroom. "Be right out," I say, shutting the door on Spike's shell-shocked expression.

Poor guy has no idea what he's getting into.

****

Peeing one-handed is always a challenge but I manage okay. Things are complicated by the fact that I'm half-hard and thinking pornographic thoughts about Spike, but I manage. 

I hang out in the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror. I look like hell. One eye is swollen shut and completely black. I also have some lovely bruises peeking out of the bandages that are wrapped around me. Even my shoulder is bruised where it popped out of joint. Way to look like a beating victim, Xander. 

If I'm gonna be locking lips with the Spikester again, the least I can do is brush my teeth. Also something rather hard to do one-handed but I will not be deterred. If there's nookie to be had, I'm going to greet it with fresh breath, dammit!

So I brush my teeth and stare in the mirror a little more, wondering at the fact that there's a semi-nude vampire on the other side of the door. Said semi-nude vampire is now knocking politely on the door.

"Pet? Didn't fall in, did you?"

Nice to see that some phrases will never go out of style. "Nope."

"Good. That's good. Planning on coming out anytime soon?"

"Nah, thought I'd stay in here all day." Bad Xander. It's not nice to tease horny vampires.

Silence from the other side. Then, "Xander... Come out and finish what you started." 

If I didn't know any better, I'd say Spike was whining. "Can I finish brushing my teeth first? I don't want to melt the skin off your dick with my morning breath." Hey, look at that. I'm just full of straightforward remarks about sex.

Spike makes some sort of sound that makes me wonder if someone isn't strangling him. I can't help but smile. I'm going to get it when I come out of the bathroom. Which has been my goal all along, obviously. I take pity on Spike and finish brushing my teeth as fast as I can. Rinse out the excess Colgate and I'm good to go.

I put one ear to the door and listen carefully. Not a sound. That's either really bad or really good. What the hell. May as well accept my fate.

****

The minute I put my hand on the doorknob it opens to reveal a rumpled, where-did-I-put-my-hair-gel Spike whose boxers have a tent in them that rivals mine. Good thing we're on the same page.

Spike takes two seconds to assess the situation before he grabs my hand and pulls me over to the bed. You know, he really does have a nice back. A lot of guys go for the T & A, but give me a nicely toned back or arm and I'm history. 

Spike is definitely drool-worthy in both those departments. Palest skin I've ever seen, but he *is* a vampire so that's to be expected. Pale skin, hard body...

Oh yeah. Little Xander is enjoying the scenery for sure.

Two feet from the bed Spike stops short and turns around. He has this look on his face that I can't quite interpret. "If you ask me if I'm sure this is what I want, I'll have to hurt you Spike. And not in a good way, either." That gets me a laugh and relieved expression. Who would have thought that Spike had insecure moments?

"Didn't know you were into pain, love."

I reach out and grab Spike's waist and pull him towards me. When we're chest-to-chest, hard on to hard on, I lower my head to his neck. I can feel the tremors running through Spike's body as I lick his neck right where I know the jugular is. He moans as I blow lightly across the skin I just licked. "There's a lot you don't know about me, Spike." Another lick, then a playful nip that earns me a louder moan than before.

"I'm beginning to see that." Spike says as he gently kisses my bruised shoulder. 

"Shall we move this to the bed?"

"Thought you'd never ask," I murmur into his neck. 

Spike walks us backward until we hit the bed and carefully lowers us until he's sprawled underneath me. I pull back from kissing and licking his neck to get a good look at him. Yep. He's a keeper all right. 

Spike grins at me. "See anything you like, pet?" 

I grin right back. "Hell, yeah. Now shut up and kiss me."

And boy does he.

Hot, wet kisses with lots of tongue. Kisses that last until I almost pass out from lack of air. In some small corner of my mind, I wonder how long Spike can kiss. Bet it's a long time. 

But there's no room for idle thoughts as he gently rolls us over so I'm on the bottom. A guy could get used to this. Spike tugs at my boxers and I helpfully lift my hips so he can slide them off. His boxers are next and I take a moment to admire my very own vampire dick. Can't wait to get my hands on it, but when I reach down, Spike slaps my hands away and proceeds to worship my body with his tongue.

You have never lived until you've had a vampire make love to you. I never realized it before, but they can be very single-minded at times. Spike kisses and licks every nook and cranny on body except the most important one.

By the time Spike finds his way to my dick, I was a quivering mess unable to form a coherent sentence. The scream I let out when he deep throats me gets the point across rather well, though. "Spiiiiiiike..." is all I can say. Just his name over and over as he brings me to the brink of coming and then tugs on my balls right before I do. Bastard.

"Spike...please..." I pant, thrusting in and out of his mouth. I groan in dismay when he pulls his mouth off me. Lift my head enough so that I can see Spike grinning up at me, one hand wrapped around the base of my dick. 

"Did you need something, love?" 

I'm gonna kill him. "Don't stop!"

Another grin, wider this time. "That's what I thought," he says and drops his head. He sucks me down his throat in one quick movement and I feel my orgasm rush through me like a freight train. Can't hear, can't see, sure as hell can't speak.

When I come back to myself, Spike is leaning over me looking quite pleased with himself. Flop my good arm around his neck and pull him into a kiss. I taste myself in his mouth and kiss him a little harder. He breaks the kiss first and we stare at each other for a few seconds. I can feel how hard he his against my thigh and know that he won't ask the question.

"Spike?" Just say it Xander, you know you want to. "Spike. I want you to...to..."

"To what, Xander?" I think he already knows but understands that I have to say it.

Deep breath and out with it. "Fuck me. I want you to fuck me." 

There. I said it.

Spike's eyes widen in surprise. Maybe that wasn't what he was expecting to hear.  
"You sure, pet? Don't want to hurt you."

I kiss him again, putting everything I have into it. "I have never been so sure about anything in my life, understand?" Not leaving any room for doubt.

"If that's what you want..."

"It is. Now fuck me, dammit."

"Hold on there, mate. You got anything? Not doing that without some sort of lube."

I'm willing to bet that Spike would get a little offended if I told him I thought he was being sweet. Better not to mention it and let him keep his reputation intact. "Hand lotion in the drawer."

Spike favors me with a knowing look. "Do I need to ask why you have hand lotion so close to the bed?"

"Erm...my hands chap easily?"

He laughs loudly. "I just bet they do."

"What? You don't believe me?" I affect a wounded tone, hoping to distract Spike. 

It doesn't work. "Look. What would you rather do? Make fun of me for having lotion in my bedside drawer or use said lotion on me?"

Spike stops laughing and stares at me hungrily. "You got a way of getting right to the point. Like that in a bloke."

I know my stare is just as hungry. We kiss again and I take the opportunity to explore Spike's mouth thoroughly. Gasp into his mouth when I feel his slick finger press against me. Oh yeah, that's the stuff. I spread my legs wider and kiss Spike a little harder. This was not how I imagined my day was going to go, but who cares?

There's a little bit of pain when Spike's finger pushes inside me. I've never done this before and I can't think of a better person to share it with. Kind of a weird feeling, but definitely an enjoyable one. 

And holy God what the hell was that? A second ago it was just Spike's finger moving in and out and then boom! He touched *something* and I'm instantly hard as a rock again. "Jesus, Spike!" 

Low chuckle from Spike. "Like that, do you? Plenty more where that came from." 

Now there's two fingers pushing in and whatever pain I might have felt goes out the window when he touches that spot again. I could come from just this. It's like I'm in kind of a daze now; the only thing I can focus on is Spike and his magical fingers. I know I'm pushing back on them and moaning and doing my damndest to make him move faster. 

Three fingers now and its only getting better. Got my eyes closed 'cause I don't want to feel anything but Spike touching me, Spike kissing me, Spike making love to me. So close to coming. Just a little more and...

No!

Spike's fingers are gone and I feel strangely empty, like I'm missing a part of myself. "Nnnn.." is all I can manage to get out before Spike kisses me. 

"Shh, love. It's time for the best part."

Oh, I know what that means.

"Open your eyes, Xander."

Spike's hovering over me, looking a question that he can't quite seem to ask. 

In answer, I wrap my legs around his waist and nod my head.

That's all the permission he needs. Next thing I feel is something that's definitely not fingers pushing inside of me. There's some pain, but Spike's moving slowly enough that it doesn't matter. 

My head falls back against the pillow and I sigh as he slides deeper and deeper until I can feel his skin against mine. 

"Ohhh." 

So right. So perfect. Whatever piece was missing from my life, Spike completed the puzzle. I feel complete now. Whole.

He starts to move, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. And God, it's like nothing I've ever felt before. Taken. Filled completely. 

Spike's mouth is on my neck, sucking hard, worrying a bit of skin between his teeth. I just want him to *do* something while he's there. He's fucking me into next week and all I can think is that I want him to leave a mark on my body to show he was there. Something I can look at later and think of him.

"Spike," I gasp out. "Spike."

His voice is muffled, but I can hear him loud and clear. "Ok, pet?"

"You can bite me. I want you to."

Might have been the wrong thing to say because Spike stops all movement. I could cry. I open my eyes to find him staring at me. "What?"

"You want me to what?" He sounds half-pissed and half-astounded. 

I trace his cheekbone with my fingers. "Bite me. Drink my blood. Please."

Spike starts shaking his head before I finish my sentence. "No. Why?"

I wriggle a little bit and feel his dick twitch inside me. Feels nice. "I need you to."

Half-moan at my wriggle. "Xander, it'll leave a scar."

Another wriggle. "I know. I want it to."

"Pet-"

"I love you." I blurt out before he can tell me no again. Spike's eyes widen and I can't quite read his expression. "I love you, Spike and I want your mark on me." Inside me I feel him twitch again, moreso than the first time.

Spike drops his head to my chest and moans. "Oh, God. Do you really mean that, Xander? I won't share you with anyone else. I want you all to myself. If I drink from you, you're mine. Forever."

I shiver at his words. Belong to Spike for the rest of my natural life? "Sounds perfect to me." I thrust my hips up as best I can and run my hand down Spike's back. "Please. Please…" I don't know what else to say to make him believe me. 

He lifts his head from my chest. "God, I love you," he whispers and kisses me hard. I return it whole-heartedly. Spike starts to thrust into me again; harder then before and I know he's close to coming. I meet his thrusts, breaking the kiss and tilting my head back to expose my throat. He whimpers and I feel his cool lips travel down my neck, coming to rest at the spot where my neck and shoulder meet. So thoughtful, putting his mark where it can be fairly easily covered.

There's no pain when his teeth sink into my flesh. Just a pulling sensation that matches the rhythm of his thrusts inside me perfectly. It's too much and I cry out loudly, coming harder than I ever have before. Spike pounds into me, pulling his teeth out of my neck as he comes. I feel the coolness of his semen inside me and I know that nothing in my life can or will ever compare to this. 

Spike collapses half on top of me, careful not to put too much weight on my injured ribs. I feel him licking at the wounds he's made in my neck and...purring? 

Probably a vampire thing.

We lay there for a bit. Me, trying to catch my breath and Spike running his hands up and down my body, purring away. I sigh in contentment as I feel Spike carefully slip out of me. "Wow."

"Love you, Xander." Spike's voice is low and apprehensive.

I hug him as tightly as I can before I answer. "Love you too, Spike."

He's up and moving suddenly, face inches from mine, serious look in his face. "Mine," he says, running a hand down my face until he touches the bite marks on my throat.

"Yours," I agree. "Forever."


End file.
